#attuma and okoye owning a burger joint together
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tvreadsandsleep · 2 years ago
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» Domestic!Attoye || Attoye Prompt Drabbles || Master List «
For two people whose first point of contact had resulted in the exchange of physical blows, Okoye and Attuma got along remarkably well—once their nations officially made peace, that is. In their eyes, the transition from cutthroat enemies to begrudging allies then genuine friends to tender lovers had felt natural, with very few bumps in the road. To those around them, the changes had been unexpected, no one having imagined that the former General of the Dora Milaje would ever be on amicable, let alone romantic, terms with one of the Talokanil responsible for her disgraceful demotion. However, seeing how they were together—both softening from the hard, militant personas to display the playful and affectionate people underneath—it made sense.
On this morning, though, that sweet and considerate couple was far from sight, both at wits’ end. Having recently moved in together, they—Okoye, in particular—were finding the change of their own separate spaces converging into one much more difficult than that of the progression their relationship had made.
Woken out of her sleep by the banging of items in the bathroom, Okoye groaned before looking at the clock on her Kimoyo Beads. There was still some time until her alarm was scheduled to go off, but it wasn’t enough to make snoozing serviceable. Dismissing the alarm, she dragged herself to the edge of the bed, rubbing her bleary eyes along the way. She stood to make her way to the bathroom, but instead of a clear path, which had been the norm when she lived alone, a pile of Attuma’s soiled clothing stood in her way.
“Damn it, Attuma!” she cursed, kicking the garments. “Didn’t I ask you to put these in the hamper? It escapes my understanding how such a disciplined warrior can be such a slob in almost every other aspect of his life. This isn’t Talokan and I’m not your handmaiden. Pick up after yourself!”
During her tirade, Attuma had come to stand in the bathroom’s doorway. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as he looked her over.
“It is bold of a woman, who makes a disaster of the kitchen every time she cooks, to pester me about clothing upon the floor. Why can you not simply walk around it?”
“Because it isn’t supposed to be there! Just like how your hair shouldn’t cover every corner of this house.” Having been bald for well over a decade, Okoye had forgotten what a nuisance hair could be—clogging drains, invading food and coating furniture.
“Since you speak of covered surfaces, must you have multiple cups in every area you rest?” He snapped, pointing out the four cups that currently took up space on her nightstand. “And in the washroom, the tabletop is so filled with your bottles and concoctions that I cannot move about without knocking something over.”
To emphasize his point, he turned into the bathroom and retrieved three of the large containers of lotion she kept near the sink. They were such that she was unable to palm even one, but his large hands were able to comfortably hold three amid their grip.
“Why must they all be out on the table?” He demanded, his hold tightening while he shook them in the area before him. He was so aggravated that he misjudged his strength, squeezing the bottles beyond capacity. They exploded in response, a wash of thick, beige floral-scented cream coating his face, shoulders and bare chest.
Okoye, who’d been irate and prepared to argue back, let out a bark of laughter, bending forward at the waist and slapping her thigh, at the ridiculous sight. Recovering, she sauntered towards him, lips still curved in a smile, and cleared the lotion from his eyes and mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pecking him on the lips.
“As am I,” he conceded. “I will do better.” The scowl had relaxed from his brows and his eyes gentled, gazing into hers.
“So will I,” she vowed. “You know, messy tendencies aside, there’s no one I’d rather be with.”
“And, in spite of your many collections of cups and bottles, you are the owner of my heart.”
More laughter bubbled from Okoye as she removed the ruined bottles from his grasp to be dealt with.
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